Save Him
by SHERlocked221C
Summary: This is just a little missing scene one-shot response to mollymatterrs on tumblr. Mary gave someone else a DVD, too. Sherlolly if you squint really hard. "I've given Sherlock a case. One that, if he's not careful, could break him." Depending on what occurs in "The Final Problem", I may write more.


Dr. Molly Hooper was tired. Since Mary…died…she'd been hopping between work shifts in the morgue and John and Mary's house to help care for little Rosie. It was exhausting, but she wasn't about to stop, someone had to help. Mrs. Hudson and she traded shifts, along with Mary's friends Stella and Ted. John was practically useless, immobilized by grief. And Sherlock—Sherlock was likewise devastated, not only by the loss of Mary, but also the loss of John, the loss of Rosie, the loss of everything that had become normal to him, his little family group. Mrs. Hudson had assured her that he was trying to work to stay occupied, but a couple of weeks ago, he had turned up on John's doorstep. It tore at Molly's heart to have to turn him away. The hurt in his eyes was one of the saddest things she had ever seen.

And so she had taken the Tube home from work that night, hoping that she would be able to finally rest, and maybe even have the time to come to terms with her own grief. She had lost a friend, too. Molly retrieved her post and trudged up the stairs to her flat. She dropped the mail on the couch and wandered into the kitchen. There was an open bottle of wine in the refrigerator, and she considered having a glass, but in her present state…no. Instead, she put a kettle on. Cup of tea in hand, she returned to the sitting room and collapsed on the sofa, absent-mindedly turning on the telly. She pulled the mail toward her. A bill…another bill…a letter from her aunt…a recruitment notice from a hospital in Leeds…more junk mail…and a DVD mailer, no return address.

Molly studied the envelope. The handwriting wasn't familiar. She opened the seal and out slipped a DVD. "Please watch me" was written in black marker on its top surface. Curious, she rose and inserted it into her player, then returned to the sofa.

There was a brief moment of static, and then Molly gasped. She was facing someone completely unexpected. Mary.

"I'm so sorry to do this. But it's a precaution." Video Mary gave a sad smile. "I've given Sherlock a case. One that, if he's not careful, could break him. I really am so sorry, but it's the only way. If this situation was different, if my past— Sherlock will be in danger. You'll need to be there for him. Just as you always have been. He needs you, you know? More than he understands, I think. I've sent him to hell, but I need you to hold on. Whatever he asks you to do, whatever task he sets you; hold on. Hold on, and save Sherlock Holmes, Molly. Save him."

As Molly sat in shock, trembling, Video Mary continued. "And Molly? Thank you for being such a good friend. I haven't had too many of those in my life, and you were bloody brilliant. Take care."

Molly's eyes filled with tears. She sat, silent, pondering her friend's last words to her. Her last request. Save Sherlock. Save him…from whom? From un-named foes? From himself? Molly had been trying to do that, off and on, for the past few years.

" _How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with! And how dare you betray the love of your friends! Say you're sorry."_ And she had slapped him, again and again, venting her frustration at his drug-addled, unshaven face.

Molly closed her eyes at the memory. It wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't…love…this brilliant idiot.

Two days later, she received a text from Sherlock.

Molly?

Yes, Sherlock?

I need you to do something for me.

Molly stiffened. Here it comes, she thought.

What do you need?

You and an ambulance.

What's wrong? Are you hurt?

No, I'm not injured. And I won't need this until the 23rd.

What? 2 weeks from now?

You—and the ambulance—need to be at an

address I'll be sending you. 12:30 p.m. on the 23rd.

Bring a stethoscope.

Do you need me to come over now? Are you at 221B?

No! Molly, don't. I'll need you on the 23rd. Don't be late.

 _Save Sherlock Holmes. Save him._

Molly frowned at the perplexing texts from the Detective. I'll do what I can, Mary, she promised.

Yes, Sherlock. I'll be there.

Thank you—S

Molly took a sip from her can of Tango, still puzzled. Reaching again for her phone, she texted Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson, where's Sherlock?

He's locked himself in his flat, hasn't left for 3 days.

That Billy's with him. Not sure what they're up to.

I'm a bit worried. Sometimes I can hear him

pounding around up there, sometimes total silence!

He's sent me some odd texts. Told me not to come over.

Had a client turn up last night, a young woman.

Then they left and he was gone all night. Molly,

he's using again, he looks terrible. I don't think

he's eating.

Molly sighed, and a tear ran down her cheek. Saving Sherlock Holmes not going to be easy, but she was prepared to do anything.


End file.
